


In Cupid's Crosshairs

by CobaltCorvus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltCorvus/pseuds/CobaltCorvus
Summary: Magnus wasn't ready for the amount of adorable he'd be faced with at the end of the day.





	

Over the centuries, Magnus had become used to the sight of Shadowhunters armed to the teeth, blades drawn against him and a disdainful smirk in place. He’d learned to keep his magic sizzling at his fingertips whenever those runed annoyances decided to show up with their glowing blades and barbed words. He couldn’t have anticipated that he’d end up falling in love with one, he’d have laughed in the face of the person who dared suggest it and asked if maybe their ninth cocktail had had a little too much of a kick to it.

He never expected the sight of discarded angelic weapons scattered around his apartment to leave a small flutter of expectation growing in his stomach from the simple fact that it meant Alec was home. A quiver hung on the hatstand, a set of vambraces laid on a side table or whatever was close at hand when Alec finally remembered to take them off, and Magnus has forgotten how many times he’s walked around a corner to see Alec’s bow leaning against the wall or propped by the door.

It was snowing when he got home after a day spent replenishing his stores of ingredients to find a heavy, black, tactical jacket thrown on the coat rack and his favorite chair already occupied.

Granted, it was both he and Alec’s favorite armchair and he claimed precedent for thinking of it that way first, but that wasn’t what stopped him short. Alec was nestled asleep among the cushions with a stack of reports, pages splayed against his chest and slipping from between his lax fingers, while his face was pressed into a decorative pillow in a way that would guarantee him a severe case of bedhead. The chair wasn’t meant for someone of Alec’s height to lounge in, his legs were thrown over one of its arms, and as he’d stretched out in his sleep the tips of his boots almost reached the floor. The worn, deep-green sweater he’d taken to wearing around the flat was pulled up over his hands like he’d tucked the sleeves over his knuckles to keep them warm.

Without the black rune spanning the side of his neck, Magnus could almost imagine him as a student who’d stayed awake too long studying before an exam. He was anything but; Magnus knew there were calluses on his fingers from hours of practice at the range and despite his relaxed position Alec could be on his feet and ready to fight within seconds. And there was no mistaking the seraph blade strapped to his thigh within easy reach.

Magnus felt a fond smile spread across his lips and he snapped his fingers, a crackle of blue sparking around his nails. The reports vanished from Alec’s lap, reappearing stacked neatly on the table nearby and sorted into piles of finished and unfinished work. He leaned closer, brow furrowed as he spread a haze of magic over Alec’s body, searching for any pain. He could find nothing but a deep sense of exhaustion, which he knew would be remedied by a good night’s rest better than any spell or potion. After he was certain nothing else would trouble his sleep, Magnus relaxed and sent out a final flicker of magic. A blanket heaped itself over Alec, wrapping around him just as Magnus wished he could if he weren’t concerned with waking him. Running his hand through Alec’s hair, Magnus tangled his fingers in the soft waves and felt Alec settle deeper into the touch with a contented sigh.

The simple movement filled him with a warm glow of affection, the piles of rare ingredients forgotten in the moment.

For centuries he’d been watching his back for an attack from the Shadowhunters, mistrust and caution his constant companions and yet Magnus had still found his heart speared by an arrow. Just a different kind than he’d expected.


End file.
